Double Crossing Them
by Drama Queen And You Know It
Summary: Just this once... Please let me get away with it just this once
1. Prologue

_Heyyy to all you readers out there it's me again this time i thought i would branch out and do another couple this time it being a Traylor be second favorite couple. I love to know what you think and if you should continue on with this piece or should i just forget about it.. Let me know by leaving it in a review..Anyway enjoy this piece.._

_WhyDoesItHaveToRainOnMyParade xx  
_

The gun felt heavy yet comfortable in my hand. The pearl stock, warmed by my body heat, fitted snugly against the palm of my hand. I now held Evans's custom- made semi-automatic in my hand and it felt good.

A real, honest-to-God gun in my hand.

A proper killing machine.

Or was that me? Where did I stop and the gun start? I really couldn't tell anymore.

Now what?

Evans lay on the floor, the previous torrents of blood that had been gushing from his nose now reduced to a trickle. His once crisp, white designer suit and matching designer shirt lay twisted in an ungainly manor around him. The random splashes of blood on Evans's suit made the whole thing look like an abstract painting. I started at one particular stain and that was the one that was right in the middle of his chest.

"It looks more like a Rorschach ink blot than a painting,_" _I thought inanely

It reminded me of my own face in a skewed profile.

_Now what?_

Evans's blond hair hung like day old spaghetti around his face. It was streaked with random red highlights which occasionally dripped onto his shoulder. The red highlight were donated involuntarily by Evan's last victim. The assorted blood slpatters on his jacket alone would at least fill a couple of chapters in a forensic science textbook. I wondered the SOCO - scene-of-crime-officer - lucky enough to be assigned to Evans's body would be an art lover.

I glanced toward the office door. The heavy banging on it was beginning to get to me. The noise vibrated through my head. It was making it hard for me to think. I need to work out what my next move was going to be. Making a slow fist with my free hand, I dug my short nail deeply into my palms. I had to resist the temptation of the rhythmic drumming dictate my pace of thinking.

_Think, Troy. Think_

There had to be a way out this.

But even as the thought pushed it's way to the front of my consciousness, I knew that I was deluding myself. I had to turn and face the truth.

Time had run out.

'Bolton, dig yourself a grave and crawl into it cause you are _dead. _D'you hear me?"

I aimed a kick between Evans's legs and allowed myself a small smile as the blood splattered scumbag howled curling up. There was nothing and no one in Evans's office to stop me from getting a few kicks in. And if I was going to die... The smile that was on my face faded as Evans writhed on the floor.

As the sound of their boss's roar of pain, Evans's men pounded on the door harder so as to try and get into the office. Luckily that Evans's paranoia had seen to it that door was solid reinforced hardwood. The door would hold out for a while, though not even that door would hold out forever after the kind of punishments Evans's thug were dishing out to it. I reckoned that I only had a few minutes before they manged to get through the door and then only thing that would be in trouble would be me and not the door.

Could I do it? Could I really go though with this?

Hell, Yes.

There was a time, less than six weeks ago when I thought that a person could only sin so low. Sooner or later, you went down as far as you could and after that the only other direction you could go in was up. But just loving Taylor should be that Heaven had no roof, hating Evans and the Crosses had taught me that hell had no basement.

Evans began to laugh, even though his hands were cupped over his groin and he was still curled up he still found all of this funny. Creepy Evans, the hard man. My finger stroked the trigger. White fire blazed though my being instead of blood, burning away all thoughts and feelings i had. All the fear as well. I had a gun in my hand and it was like a syringe pumping one hundred percent pure adrenaline straight into my heart.

The banging at the door sounded more and more frustrated and the need to get through was become more insistent.

"You're dead, Bolton," Evans said again, "And there's nothing you can do about it."

I put the gun to the old mans head. Evan froze.

"Then that makes two of us," I stated softly. "That makes two of us"


	2. One: Troy

_Heyyy.. Thanks you to the two people that reviewed the previous chapter and you know who you are.. Here's the next chapter to this.. It's got a bit of Troypay and Chaylor but well I couldn't help it as I love those two couples. And way enjoy this chapter and leave a review.. I wanna see what people think so i'm next gonna put up the next chapter till i have five reviews for this so yes that mean only three reviews to go.. _

_WhyDoesItHaveToRainOnMyParade_

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_**SIX WEEKS BEFORE**_

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**_ONE.. TROY_**

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"Tobey, I was er... thinking that maybe you and me could.. er ... you know, go to the pictures or something for a.. er ... you know, a meal or something the weekend?"

Goodsake! Couldn't she go through one sentence without saying an umpteen amount of er's and you knows in it?

"I can't, Sharpay. I'm already going out." I turned back to my graphic novel - a humorous fantasy that was better than I had thought it would be when I had borrowed it from the library.

"Oh? Where're you going?"

"Out." I frowned, not bothering to look up from my book.

"For the whole weekend?"

"Yes"

"Out where?"

I turned in my chair to look at her. Sharpay tossed her hair over her shoulder in a pretty unnatural way making me think that it had been practiced to death in front of her mirror which it probably had been.

"Out where?" Sharpay asked again.

This girl was getting on my last nerve now. She'd been asking me out all term and i'd always find a reason to turn her down. I really don't see why she couldn't take the hunt. Miss I'm-too-sexy-for-myself learned closer into me, so close that I had to pull back or she would have been kissing my neck.

"I'm going out with my family. We're visiting relatives" I improvised.

_I'm too nice, that's my problem, _I thought sourly. Why on Earth didn't I just tell her that I wasn't at all interested in going on a date with her or even her for that matter? For one cuddling her would be like cuddling a chopstick. I liked curves. And even if i did fancy her - which i didn't there would be no way i would get it on with an ex-girlfriend of my mate. That one of those things that we didn't do.

"Maybe the er... erm... following Saturday, then? We could maybe... er .. go out then if you like?" said Sharpay.

Rearrange this sentence: hell - freezes - when - over.

The classroom door swung open and Taylor strolled into the room. She stopped for a moment when she who was sitting in her chair. Scowling, she walked over to Sharpay.

"D'you mind?" Taylor asked.

"I'm talking to Troy"

"Not from my chair, you're not," Taylor shot back.

"Er... can't you find somewhere else to sit until the lesson starts?" Sharpay answered.

Uh-oh! I held my breathe. Taylor let her rucksack slip from her hand to the floor as her eyes narrowed. She was a nanosecond from moving into kick arse condition one.

"Sharpay, you need to get up off my chair" Taylor said softly.

"I'd shift if i were you" I advised Sharpay.

As much as I found the thought of a cat fight over me appealing, I didn't fancy getting Taylor into and then giving me grief about it for the rest of the term.

Sharpay huffed and stood up. "Taylor, I'm going to remember this."

"Remember it. Take a photo. Break out you video camera. I don't care. Just move." Taylor stepped aside so Sharpay could squeeze by, before flopping down on her now vacated seat.

"Damn cheek" Taylor carried on muttering under breathe as she reached into her bag and pulled out her history book. She turned to look at Sharpay who was now sat in her own chair.

"If looks could kill, I'd be seriously ill by now," Taylor said as she turned to me, annoyance vying with amusement colored her eyes more hazel than brown Every time she was upset of angry her eyes would literally turn greener. It was one of the things about her that got me going. She the most expressive eyes that I'd ever seen. Chameleon-like, they seemed to change color to reflect he mood.

"Every time I want to sit by you or even be within a half a kilometer of you, i can't move without tripped over that girl first. What's up with that?"

I sucked in my cheeks in an effort not to chuckle. I knew that if there was one little snicker and Taylor would bite my head odd. So I settled for a shrug.

"So what did Miss Doggy want this time?" Taylor asked

"Why do you insist on calling her Miss Doggy" I laughed. I know it was mean but "Miss Doggy" really did suit Sharpay as she would follow me around like a little puppy and I really didn't like that.

"That's her name, isn't it? Besides, I'm not the one who chose to name my child after something that sounded like a dog, and if the shoe fits..." Taylor said pointedly "And you haven't answered my question."

"She was inviting me out this weekend," I replied/

I watched keenly for her reaction. She ended up shaking her head and said "Damn! Sharpay's got t bad"

"Are you jealous?" I asked hopefully.

Taylor's eyebrow shot up so fast it was almost like she had had an instant face-lift. "Are you kidding? I just think it's pitiful. She's been throwing herself at you all term and you haven't exactlly been rushing to catch her, have you? In fact most of the time you just fold your arms and left her drop on her face over and over again. You'd think she would have gotten the message by now."

"You are so green-eyed" I grinned.

"Troy, I don't know what your taking, but you need to get yourself checked into a rehab and fast"

"My girl is jealous." My grin broadened. "It's ok Taylor. They'll never be anyone for me but you."

"Go dip your head" Taylor told me.

"I mean it." I crossed both of my hearts over my hear and adopted a soppy expression. "I give my heart.. To you." I mimed placing it carefully on the table in front of her. Glowering, Taylor picked up her pen and mimed stabbing it over and over again.

I burst out laughing, but had to smother it when Mr Perry, our history teacher came into the room. Taylor started to mutter all kinds of dire threats and promises under her breathe they she always did when i did something to get under her skin.

And I love it. It was music to my eyes

* * *

Taylor quickly supressed a laugh as the buzzer sounded for the end of the lesson. I'd spent the last fifty minutes sending her silly notes and making remarks about Mr Perry's newly bald head with a groove in the middle. It now resembled a part of the male anatomy that I couldn't with no chance let pass without commenting about had been in smothered fits of giggles near enough the whole lesson. I loved make Taylor laugh. God know she had hardly done that since her grandmother was killed in a bomb blast. Taylor was reaching for her rucksack on the floor and I had barely made it to my feet when we had company.

Chad bloody Danforth.

Sharpay wasn't the only one that couldn't take the hint. Ok, so I still wasn't sure what to call my friendship with Taylor but I knew what Chad and Taylor weren't and that was they weren't an item. She wasn't Chad's girlfriend anymore so I didn't see why he was so persistent in hanging out her all the time. Being older than us meant he wasn't even in our class. But he must have seen Taylor through the classroom window and now he was, lingering around like an eggy fart. Smarmy git.

He completely ignored me, as usual and asked Taylor softly "Hi, Taylor, How are you?"

Taylor's smile faded. She was instantly wary. I was grateful for that, if nothing else.

"I'm fine, Chad. How are you?"

"Missing you." Chad smiled.

Taylor was searching for something to say, but unable to find something she merely shrugged. I glared at Chad, but he wasn't going to give me the satisfaction of acknowledging my presence.

"Ignore me all you want, but if you think I'm leaving you alone with Taylor.. "I projected my hostility toward him through narrowed eyes.

"I'm so glad to see you smiling again, Taylor. I'm glad your getting over the bereavement in your family." said Lucas.

The light in Taylor's eyes had vanished, as if i great dark cloud had swept across the the face of the sun. Taylor's grandmother had died two months ago and she still wasn't fully over it. She never would be.

"And you were always close to you nana Rachel, weren't you?" Lucas continued

I glanced at Taylor turning my back to Chad. A cyclops with a pencil in his eye could see that Taylor was getting upset. Chad would have to be stupid not see the effect his words were having on Taylor. Chad was a lot of things but stupid, that was one of the things he wasn't

Taylor still said nothing.

"Taylor if you ever need to talk about you grandmother and how she died, then you know that i'm here for you. Ok?" Chad smiled "I just want you to know that I'm your friend. I'll always be your friend. If you need anything from me all you have to do is ask."

Dismayed, I turned to Taylor again. With a few well chosen word Chad had not only knocked Taylor too the ground but had manged to dance all over her as well. Her face took on a haunted, hunted look she always wore when thinking about Nana Rachel. Her eyes glistened green with tears she was desperately trying to hold back. Taylor hated anyone to see her cry. My hands clenched into fists at my side. I had to hold myself rigid to refrain from smacking Chad right there and then.

Chad out one of his hands under Taylor's chin so as to slowly raise her head. He was still ignoring me. "Just think about what I said. I mean every word." He smiled again, then sauntered away to join the rest of his friends that were waiting at the door for him.

Taylor and I were alone in the classroom. I chewed on the inside of my bottom lips. What to say? What to do? I was so useless when it came to this kind of thing.

"Taylor.." I turned to her just in time to see a solitary tear balanced on her eyelash splash onto her cheek.

"Taylor, don't listen to him. He was just being a git" I began furiously.

Puzzled, Taylor turned to me, her eyes still shimmering "He was just trying to be kind."

"Kind my arse. He that deliberately"

"Troy, what's wrong with you?" Taylor whispered "You know what, I can't cope with this right now."

"Taylor, can't you see what Chad's up to? He was..."

But I was walking to myself. Taylor was out of the door, leaving me in the classroom.

Alone.


	3. Two: Taylor

_Heyy Readers... Here's the next chapter.. This fic is gonna read from both the point of view of Troy and Taylor so yes this is the first of the Taylor point of view chapters. I would like to thank LadiiTwizzler990 for reviewing the previous chapter... I would also like to thank anyone that has added this to their alerts and favorites... Anyway enjoy the next chapter and let me know what you think  
_

_WhyDoesItHaveToRainOnMyParade_

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_**TWO.. TAYLOR**_

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Try as I might, I just couldn't let go of the newspaper clipping. It was in either in my hand of stuck in my head. And it never ever left my heat. Nana Rachel's photo shone aside the article about her death. I recognized the photograph. It was the one with my Nana in the middle, my mum and me on the right and Aunt Sarah, Uncle Shawn and cousin TJ on her left. It was at least ten year old and in it Nana just looked so happy, so proud. I'd asked Nana about the photo once. I'd only been about five or six at the time so to be honest I couldn't really remember much about it. And what's more I didn't think the photo was all that, but Nana kept a copy of it framed on her bedside table, a copy on her piano and a smaller version in her purse. TJ looked like he had just finished picking his nose or something, Mum appeared to be fed up and Auntie Sarah was looking at Uncle Shawn and not straight at the camera but Nana didn't care.

"I have my whole family beside me," She told me when I asked her about it. "That's what makes it so special." Then she added wistfully "The only that's missing is your dad, Joseph"

But for the article they had chopped the rest of us, showing only Nana. The worn, folded seams of the newspaper slipping in my hand made the paper as fragile as cobwebs, but that didn't stop me from re-reading it. Every day.

I tried to imagine what had gone what. Had Nana Rachel tried to return the bomb to Uncle Nick? Is that what happened? Did she go to his hotel to throw it in his face? Did it go off accidentally? Did Uncle Nick detonate it deliberately? Did Nana Rachel try to run off and hide? Was there a struggle? Did they fight over it? If so, then Nana Rachel wouldn't have stood a chance. She took my bomb and knowing her as I did she would have relished handing it back to Uncle Nick. But there was no way she could have known how dangerous Uncle Nick was. The bomb got him but it got Nana Rachel too. How did I even begin to forgive myself for that?

Uncle Nick and Nana Rachel we're dad because of me.

Because of my bomb.

I'd made the thing, put it together with rage and hatred in equal measures. I look back on my life of a few months ago and it's like being a voyeur in someone else's twisted mind. I look into my memories and she the thoughts and actions of a stranger, but a stranger with my face.

"Nana Rachel, I'm so sorry"

Sorry. Such a ridiculous word.

Sorry.

I despise that word.

I buried my face in my hands. I didn't want to see or be seen. At times like this, I just wanted to crawl away and find a place to hide for the world. Hide from myself.

Was there any such place? I would've given everything I owned to find such a place.

Little moments of forgetfulness. I guess that's all I can hope for now. Small moments where I can forget about how it was that my nana died. Sometimes I'll be cooking with mum and she'll make me smile, or I'll be arguing with my other Nana and she'll make me huff at her, or even i'll be studying with Troy and he'll deliberately annoy and wind me up. I those wonderful little moments, I forget. Those moments though are few and fair apart.

I couldn't even blame Uncle Nick for what had happened. After all he was a soldier. A terrorist. A sad, bitter man filled with hatred that he couldn't wait to pass to me and I had let him. Since his death I had searched the internet and my local library about him and it had told me about all the things I had wanted to know. It told me about all the things that he had done. Troy and Chad had both tried to warn me about him but I had chosen not to listen to them. I had thought that Uncle Nick was the one person that I could trust and was wholly honest with me. How could I have gotten everything do wrong? I'm obviously not very perceptive. And the pitiful thing is that before his death I thought that I could learn everything I needed to learn about someone by taking three glances. Oh God how wrong I was. I was a fool.

All those lies that Uncle Nick had told me. All the hatred that filled him to overflowing. Hatred that he couldn't wait to pass onto me. And I had let him pass it to me. Even though I had made the bomb at his instigation, that still didn't help when I thought about the way he had died. Him and Nana Rachel.

One of the things that this new government had done when they came into power just a few months ago was abolish capital punishment. It had been abolished sixty years ago but was reintroduced five years before I was born due a public referendum. It showed that the majority of the people wanted the terrorists and all other that had been convicted of serious crimes to be executed. Part of me wanted to walk into the nearest police station and take whatever came my way for what I had done. If this country still had capital punishment it would have been even better.

"Nana, I wish you could hear me. D'you hate me? You can't hate me any more than I hate myself. I never meant for you to get hurt. Me head was all over the place then. I didn't know who I was or where I belonged. I do now. But I never wanted that knowledge to come at the cost of your life. Mum says I mustn't blame myself but I do. She also says that is was down to Nick. But not it was my fault that your gone now. Nana, I'm so sorry"

"Taylor, didn't you hear me call you for dinner?" Mum was stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips "We're all waiting for you downstairs"

"Is Jude here?" I asked, folding up the newspaper article again and placing it in the drawer of my bedside table

Mum's hands fell to her sides as she walked further into the room. I heard her sigh softly. "Yes, he is. I invited him for dinner. Taylor, d' you... D'you mind about Jude and Me? We haven't really had the chance to talk about him since your Nana died."

"I don't mind at all, Mum" I said honestly "In fact I'm glad you've got someone."

Mum was scrutinizing my face as if to gauze how my of my words were true. I met her gaze without flinching or even blinking. I meant every word.

"Something's bothering you about me and Jude, though" she said slowly.

I had to smile. Mum was so astute when it came to reading my expressions. She was far more astute than that I had ever given her credit for.

"I was just thinking about you and Matt?" I couldn't help asking. Matt was Mum's old boyfriend. The only trouble was that he was still in love with her and trying to win her back, even though Mum had told him she was going to marry Jude.

"Matt and I are in the past. Jude and I are the present"

"Does Matt know that?"

"I've told him often enough over the last few weeks." Mum sighed again. "It's time for all of us to move. I can't live in the past. I won't"

Was Mum trying to convince me or herself.

"Mum, are you and Jude going to get married, or live together, or what?"

"I don't know. We talked about getting married, but we might have to put that on hold." Mum admitted. "Jude's business isn't doing too well at the moment and now he's it might be better if we wait."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I think he's right.. I, we don't want to rush into anything."

"Mum, Jude loves you, so why hang about?" I said "Life's too short"

"I guess so" Mum said faintly.

Was that doubt I heard in Mum's voice? It certainly sounded like it. I wasn't quite sure I got Mum and Jude's relationship. It seemed more of an affair of the head than the heart, at least on Mum's part. Sometimes when no one was watching, a sombre, thoughtful look clouded in her eyes and I knew in those moments she was about my dad. Once I had been ashamed of my dad and who he was. He was Gregory Mckessie, a hanged terrorist. Not anymore though. Now that I knew just how much Mum and Dad loved each other, I wasn't surprised that Mum found it hard to give her whole heart to anyone else. It gave me a strange feeling to know that my dad love Mum and me so much, he had scarified so much for us, even before I was born. A strange, warm, comforting, sad feeling.

Mum and I both stood in silence, until Mum opened her arms. I immediately stepped into her embrace. We hugged. Mum stroked my hair. Loving moment turned into peaceful minutes.

On my sixteenth birthday, I was reconciled with my mum and I lost my nana. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. For a while after Name's death, I was so scared that my new relationship with wouldn't last, that things would go back to the way they used to be between us, but thankfully that hadn't happened. Oh, we'd had the odd hiccup and couple of shouting matched, but Mum always allowed me to cool off and then she'd come and hug me and tell me that she loved me and my anger would burn away. I don't know how I would have coped with Nana Rachel's death if it hadn't been for Mum. Troy and Nana Char let me know that they would be their for me, but Mum never left my side. At Nana Rachel's funeral she held my hand all the way through the service to let me know that I wasn't alone. And she had not once thrown in my face that I was the one that had made the bomb that killed Nana Rachel. Not once. With each smile, each hug and each stroke of my hair she was trying to tell me that she had forgiven me. But how could I accept Mum's forgiveness when I knew that I'd never forgive myself.

"I love you very much, Taylor. You do know that, don't you? And there is nothing on this Earth and beyond that could ever change that," Mum said to me softly.

I found it so hard to believe, but Mum's face was an open book as she looked at me.

"D'you promise?" I whispered.

Mum smiled "Cross my heart"

"Mum, I love you."

Mum hugged me harder at that. And I wished, I wished that Nana Rachel was still around to see it.


	4. Three: Troy

_Hi readers.. I'm back with another chapter of Double Crossing Them.. I hope that it goes over well. Let me know what you think and what I can do to make this better. I would like to say that i'm going to be putting all of my chapter stories other than this one and Kels and Ry Annoy Those Who Don't Like Harry Potter on hold for now as i've lost interest in them.. Though if you review to them with some encouraging feedback I may go and wrote some more.. Remember things like this take hours to write but it only takes minutes to leave a review telling the author A.K.A myself what you think of it. Until next time _

_WhyDoesItHaveToRainOnMyParade  
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_**Three.. Troy**_

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**_"Drew, get up" Jason put his hands to his mouth and yelled so hard my head started ringing.

"Godsake, Jason! My frickin' eardrums."

"Sorry," Jason said with a grin.

I sniffed around his shoulders before moving back. "Damn, Jason! Your pits out howling!"

Jason raised his arm to sniff at his armpits. He looked like her was a bird covering it's head over with it's wing.

"Oh yeah, You're right!" He said sounding a little surprised.

I pushed his arm back down before he gassed everyone on the pitch. "You do know that armpits can be washed, don't you"

"I forgot to put deodorant on today." Jason grinned.

I mean, Godsake.

Our Monday evening football match was well under way. The July evening was still bring and uncomfortably hot. Within minutes of running around my shirt had been sticking to my armpits and my back. Jason and I were on opposing teams, both on the wing, supposedly marking each other. But we were mostly talking. We watched patiently as once again pain stopped play. Drew was _still _rolling on the ground clutching his lower like he was in a death scene from a bad straight to DVD movie.

The Otter, where we were playing (Or Otter Park as the local authority had it on their website), wasn't as busy as usual. Only just enough guys had turned up for the seven-a-side match, hence the reason that I was actually playing. With a larger amount of people I was normally relegated to one of the park benches. The Otter was a flat patch of rectangular land, with a children's play area at one end and a flower garden at the other. Though there hadn't been any flowers growing in the garden for nearly two decades, according to my mom. The criss-cross path that went through it was now used by roller-bladers, skate-boarders and trick cyclists. Anyone using the park for any kind of wheeled activity did so at their own peril - so the numerous signs said so. I sometimes wondered if that meant baby buggies and pulling shopping trolleys. Closer to the garden than the playground was where the football pitch was located. It was surround on all sides by a rusting wire mesh fence. It wasn't much but it was ours. The pitch was kept clean from any dog crap and any litter. All the footballers in the area made sure of that.

Drew finally got up and shook out his led. About time! The ball was kicked to me and I displayed some semi-adequate skills when I got rid of it. It even went to my own side which was a change. I normally gave it to the other team when i had the ball.

"So what do you reckon?" Jason flashed his new watch just under my nose twisting his forearm this and that. It was so close I couldn't see it properly. Was he trying to poke out one of my eyes with that thing or what? and eua-de-stink-pits was repeatedly punching at my nose again.

"The watch?" Jason prompted. "What d'you think?"

"Does it shoot down low flying aircrafts?" I asked taking a quick step back.

Jason pursed his lips. "Not that it says in the manual"

"Does it contain the nano-technology to drain the subdural haematoma?"

"That's the next model up from this one."

"Then it does the same as my cheap one." I said to him.

"Yeah but mine looks good and cost more than everything you have in your bedroom and some more."

"Could you lower your arm before you kill me?" I pleaded.

Jason took pity on me and did as I asked.

"Your watch, did you buy it or acquire it?" i could help but ask him.

"I bought it, you arse. And I have the receipt and sales certificate to prove it." Jason frowned. "You sounds just like a black copper"

I held up my hands. "Hey, it's no skin of my nose where you got it from."

"Well i bought it with cash money, made from earning a living rather than dossing about at school like some people I could mention." Jason's frown lessened only slightly.

"And is it accurate"

"Of course. It is guaranteed to lose only one second every hundred years."

For the money that Jason must have forked out for this watch, it shouldn't lose any time at all, not ever. And surely it did more than just turn to arrow shaped pieces of metal three hundred and sixty degrees periodically?

"So what does it do?" I asked

"Nothing else. It's not some digital toy out of a cracker," Jason said preening over his watch. "This is pure class."

"But all it does it tell time," I repeated.

"Damn, Troy. How are we friends? You don't have a clue" Jason said.

"It's a loverly watch, Jason" I sighed. "If I ever get married it shall be to your watch."

"Feel free to bugger off and die at any time." Jason scowled.

I grinned. "Only if you'll bury me with your watch over my heart."

"Troy..."

"Ok, Ok. I'll shut up now."

Jason gave a reluctant smile. I could tell that he was still annoyed by my lack of open fawning over his watch, he'd get over it though. He always does. I glanced over to the sidelines, wondering which of the girls over there was Jason's latests girlfriend.

"How's your love life?" I asked.

"Non-existent, thank God!" Jason's reply was heartfelt.

"How's your sex life?"

Jason sighed. "Non-existent, unfortunately. Talking of sex.." his eyes lit up "How's Taylor?"

Damn! I should have seen that one coming. "Jason, don't start."

"What?" Jason said, acting all innocent when he was nothing but "I'm just asking if you two are still an item?"

"We are" I said firmly.

"Cause if your not," Jason continued as if I had never spoked, "I wouldn't mind some of that. She's extra fit, for what she is."

"She isn't one of them"

"Yeah but she's not one of us either." Jason replied

"Then what is she?" I asked a little annoyed.

"Extra fit. I already told you"

We stood there in silence for a little while. Why had I been so quick to deny that Taylor wasn't one of us? Maybe i still couldn't believe that she's chosen me over Chad. I couldn't help but wonder if one day she would wake up and realize that I wasn't coloured like her.

"Troy, chill. I was only messing with your head a bit."

"I know. Remind me to pay you back for that later" i responded.

If only I had the money for watches and bracelets and all the things that Taylor deserved. If only.. I grabbed Jason's arm and gave the watch a proper look.

"This is one cool watch" I admitted to him.

"You could afford a watch like this too, you know. And more" Said Jason.

"You know my job only pays minimum wage." I shrugged. My Saturday job of almost a year was roughly twenty percent selling mobile phone and eighty percent listening to costumers whine. It's just about paid for my school stationary and a few textbooks, that was it. "So at that rate I should be able to afford a watch like yours in about - what? Five or six years?"

"Selling phones isn't the only game in town" Jason said pointedly.

"It's the only one i'm interested in playing though" I reply

"Aren't you tired of having nothing?"

And that was just it. I was tired of having no money. All the things i could, all the things i could be kept slipped into my head like mental-gatecrashers.

"You could just make deliveries like me?" Jason continued. "Dropping off packages here, picking up parcels there"

For the first time I started to listen "I don't know..." I began

Sensing hesitation like a shark that has sensed blood Jason pounced. "Troy, it's easy money. Think of all the things that you could if you had it. You could save up to get out of this place for one"

"Is that what your doing?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Nah. If i had your brains, maybe. But it's this or do something like take food orders for the rest of my life. And guess what, that don't appeal to me. You though with your smarts could actually do it. Troy, in two years you could do anything you wanted and you would be able to do it because you had the cash for it."

Packages.. Deliveries.. Jason made it sound so innocuous. So very easy.

"Who do you deliver these packages for?" I asked him.

"The people who need them or want them or should have them" He told me.

"And who do you deliver these packages for?" As if I couldn't guess "Cause it sure as hell ain't the post office"

Jason smiled. "Does it matter? I pick up the packages and the addresses of where they are to be taken to and that all I know. Troy, think of the money that you could make doing this. I'm tired of having your broke arse trailing behind me all the time"

Waving the two most eloquent fingers on each hand at him, I thought about what he had said.

If I had the money, Taylor and Me...

I cut of the thought off at the pockets. I couldn't start thinking that way. I'd go mad if I started thinking that way.

But it was just deliveries. The odd parcel delivery couldn't hurt. Unless I got caught.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge of the visions of cascading money. "I don't think so Jason. I just want to go to school and keep my head down."

"School." Jason snorted. "I hope your school isn't going to make you forget about who you are"

Inside I went still. "And what exactly is that?"

"Your a white guy. You fancy school isn't going to change that"

"I wouldn't want school to do that."

"Some of our friends already think that you've sold out. It's up to you to prove that you haven't" Jason told me.

_Sold out? _What the fuck? "I don't have to prove a damn thing, Jason."

"Hey." Jason said raising his hands "I'm only telling you what some of out friends our saying about you."

Friends? My eyes narrowed as I thought of my so-called friends.

Jason stepped back from the look on my face. "I'm just saying, you have to be careful that you brain doesn't get smart at the expense of your head getting stupid."

"Wanting to do something with my life isn't selling out" I said.

"Tell that to Drew and ..."

I didn't give him the chance to say anything else as I cut him off. "No. I'm telling you. That crap doesn't even make it to ignorant. Going to school so that I can think for myself, so that i can make something of myself is selling out now, is it? We don't need the blacks to keep us down with that kind of thinking when we do it ourselves."

Jason took another step back. "Listen, I was just.."

"The next time Drew or anyone else starts spouting that shit, you send them to me to say it to my face." I say furiously. "I'm to go to school and keep my head down until I can get out of this place and that's all there is to it"

"Troy, wake up. That's not even an option." Jason stated. "And Evans can protect you. He's great, almost like a dad to me. Beside which he's one of us."

One of us.

Evans was a gangster, pure and not simply. His being white was enough mitigation as far as Jason was concerned. Evans thought himself a kingpin. He took his cut of every crooked deal that went down here. That is if the Cross family didn't get in first. The Crosses were a white family that ran all the illegal activity around here that Evans didn't get his grubby hands on. Or maybe it was the other way round? Who could tell really? The both offered protection to any low-lie who pledged allegiance.

A while ago some black hooli called Dougie Jones tried to take on the Crosses and he just disappeared. And waiting in the wings to take over his place was his second-in-command. Vance Evans. Everyone said that Evans had learned from his old boss's mistakes. Evan's had no intention of 'Disappearing'. So he made sure that everyone knew his name and his game. Trouble was Evans was even worse that Jones. I guess for the Crosses and the Evans there was plenty of misery around for anyone to make a profit from it.

"The point is, the no-man's-land in which you want us to live doesn't exist Troy," Jason continued. "If you don't pick a side soon you'll be nowhere."

"Yeah but nowhere looks like a pretty peaceful place to be right now" I said.

"Nowhere will get you dead," Jason said. "On the inside you'll be protected, you'll have back up. Evans looks after his own. What do you have at the moment?"

"I have you Jason" I smiled.

"Very funny"

"I know you'll always have my back."

"Don't rely on that, Troy" Jason said quitely.

My smiled faded. Jason and I regarded each other.

"Oi, you two! This isn't a chat show" Liam, the captain of my team yelled to out. "Kick the damn ball"

Jason and I made a show of getting back in the game but although my body ran around the pitch trying to look useful, my head was elsewhere. When pain again stopped play, I stood slightly behind Jason as we both waited for the game to restart and the ball to come our way.

I couldn't help but think about what it was that he had said to me. I felt like i'd been asleep and just been kicked awake. I'd always assumed that Jason would always have my back and vice versa. However, Jason running errands for Evans had evidently changed that. I'd blinked and missed it. Hell, I'd blinked and my world was suddenly a lot more complicated.

Years ago, I thought that getting into East High was it, the be-all and end-all of my existence. I'd thought that all i'd need to do was keep my head down and my grades up to make it through. After school I'd go to university and at the end of all of that, i'd be something big in the financial markets. I had it all figured out. I wanted to get a job that made tonnes of money. That thought was stuff for the future. I'd forgotten that I needed to get through here and now first. The present filled to overflowing with Evans and the Crosses. Needing to belong to a gang to be able to walk the streets. The present was all about friends who had your back and turning away from those who didn't. The present was hard work, not to mention dangerous.

I then realized something. Jason had been right about one thing. That one thing being, the no mans land that I was clinging to wasn't firm ground at all. It was quicksand.


End file.
